Induction
by ThatGuyBehindTheCounter
Summary: When Elizabeth shows up to the Brethren Court with Sao Feng's pendant, she is told that being named a Pirate Lord requires more than just possessing a piece of eight... Elizabeth Barbossa pairing. Mind the rating.


In AWE, Elizabeth shows up to the Brethren Court with the knot pendant and tries to put in her two cents. Then…:

* * *

"Not so fast, miss." 

Everyone turned to Barbossa and there was silence.

"Not so fast?" Elizabeth repeated.

"I'm afraid ye haven't yet the right to be heard here."

"The right?" She shifted on her feet and crossed her arms – a posture unconsciously pirated from Barbossa himself. "And what is that supposed to mean? I've got Sao Feng's knot."

"Aye, you have the knot," Barbossa purred. "And you think that be enough to guarantee you a place on our court? _Our _court, gents," he said again, turning to the other Lords. "_Our _court, what we all entered as equals…"

"Oh, I see where this is going." Jack stepped up and explained: "In addition to simply _having _a piece of eight, love, you've got to actually be _inducted_ into the Brethren Court. You have not yet been inducted. Therefore-"

"Then for Heaven's sake induct me! You know, for a bunch of outlaws, you pirates are such sticklers-"

"I'm afraid it is not that simple," said one of the seated Lords. All attention turned to him. "I, Gentleman Jocard, demand that she be put to the test – as we all were."

"To the test?" Elizabeth repeated, frowning.

Barbossa took over from there. "Aye. There be two ways of bein put to the test, missie. The one far and away more common's done like this: for four and a half minutes – which incidentally be half a minute times nine, as a nod to there bein nine of us – ye will fight. Bare hands all round, and-"

"Fight? I'll fight who?"

Elizabeth had a feeling she already knew the answer. Barbossa confirmed it with a sheepish little smile. "Why… the rest of us. At once."

"But… but I… but that's ghastly, of course I've got no chance… it'll end up…"

"Yeh," Jack said with a bit of a grimace. "It usually does. Curled up about 'alfway conscious, praying that time runs out before your head gets stomped _all_ the way in instead of-"

"I see. And what's my other choice?"

There were a few laughs around the table. Jack shrugged. "Well, the other choice is in some ways much easier. You basically don't have to do anything at all…"

"Well?" she prompted when he trailed off.

"Well… take Mistress Ching, for example. She did it that way. The way Mistress Ching entered our illustrious company… is… err…" Jack winced a little in anticipation of Elizabeth's reaction. "Well… is by having our illustrious comp-"

"She gets it, Jack. Thank ye to stow the filthy wordplay."

"Oh." Elizabeth took one look around, took in in one instant all the greedy stares, and answered immediately: "Out of the question."

"Then I suppose you can't actually be-"

"I didn't say I wouldn't take _either _option – I just said the second one's out of the question." Elizabeth took a deep breath. "Am I to understand that you can die under the beating?"

"It's happened, aye."

"Well… what about allies? Might I bribe someone to fight _with _me against the others, if I wanted?"

"You could try," Barbossa agreed. "It's how I did it. The problem is, ye've not got the gold now to bribe nobody, and with that bleedin heart of yours it's unlikely you'll ever make enough. I, personally, will not be givin you any credit."

Several _nor I_'s were heard. Elizabeth pursed her lips. A decision was required, and quickly. "Very well," she said, "I've decided. Jack… Barbossa… not to use the word _trust_, but you're the only men here I even _know _well enough to make a deal with… Um…"

Barbossa and Jack exchanged glances. "If she's offerin what I think she's offerin…"

"A combination, shall we say," Jack articulated, "Of options one and two…"

"If that be the case, I agree."

"As do I." Jack threw his swords and guns on the table and rolled up his sleeves. "So, a fight it is! Lizzie, darling, have no fear – this is all in a day's work for us."

* * *

Barbossa, as it turned out, was good for much more than Elizabeth had expected. First, he calmed her fear by teasing. "Just so's you know," he whispered, "When twas Jack's turn to be inducted, he did _not _choose the fightin option." Then he gave her a bandana so people would be less tempted to try and yank her around by the hair, and had her stuff a piece of leather in her mouth to minimize the chances of losing teeth. And then finally, when it came time to fight, he protected her so well that she emerged with just bruises and a fat lip.

Other than distracting people and absorbing a rib fracture that should by rights have been Elizabeth's, Jack was practically useless during the fight. It was possibly in consequence of this that he kissed her on the forehead afterward and said, "Darling, I would be far too intimidated to ever collect what you owe me. Hector?"

If he expected Barbossa to make a similar declaration, he was sorely mistaken. "Speak for yourself, Jack," Barbossa said right away. He spat a mouthful of blood to the floor and then tipped his hat to her. "I'll be seein you tonight in me rooms, Miss Swann."

"That's _Captain _Swann to you," she muttered, then got back to the business of the meeting as though nothing had happened. "Now, as I was saying, I propose that we…"

* * *

That night, as agreed, she knocked on his door after everyone else had gone away. "_Captain _Swann," he greeted her, a little mockingly. "Come in."

"There's no chance you're going to let me off?"

"None at all," he confirmed. "Come in."

She had not really expected to be let go and so had come prepared with a plan. "Very well, but let's go down to the baths first," she proposed. "No offence intended, Captain, but if I'm to spend tonight in close proximity to you, I would much prefer you to wash first." As an added incentive she held up a bathing robe even shorter and flimsier than the one she'd made him drool with in Singapore. "I'll change."

He agreed straight away and even deigned to keep his hands to himself as they made their way downstairs. Due to all the leering pirates they met on the way, _she _was the one who ended up pressing closer and closer to _him_, until finally she was clinging outright to his arm and wondering whether _he_ was playing _her_ rather than the other way around.

When they got downstairs he cleared everyone out of a small room with just one tub and a lot of steam. He stripped down unselfconsciously and slid into the water, smirking at her in the mirrored walls. "Comin in?" he asked at last.

Already he had gone lazy like a cat on a windowsill, and Elizabeth thought her plan might be working. A little wine would help. She hadn't been able to buy a sleeping draught today as she'd hoped, but with enough alcohol and perhaps a lullaby or something, she figured she could manage anyway.

She shook her head. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not just yet."

"Then make yourself useful at least," he decided. "Soap's over there."

She fetched it, then settled down behind him to soap up his shoulders. At first he merely watched her in the mirror, but after a bit he turned and without a word took hold of the lapels of her robe to ease it off her shoulders.

"No," she gasped reflexively. "Please."

He cocked his head and then reached in with one hand. "Ah, I see," he said when the hand encountered only a bare breast. "Or rather I _don't _see, which I suppose after all is what ye be concerned about."

Wondering what on earth she had been thinking to remove her undergarments, Elizabeth just swallowed and closed her eyes.

Barbossa sighed, and by way of compromise untied the sash so that her robe fell open to reveal a tantalizing strip of smooth white flesh that he couldn't resist touching, just once. Afterwards he slid back into the water and gestured for her to continue.

"You know, you could easily have hired a girl to come take care of you," Elizabeth said, a little sharply, as she picked up the soap again. It was impossible to hold her clothes together while she worked and she soon gave up. "Somebody who would come in and sit nude. And more."

"True. But you, missie, have the one thing that gold can't buy in a woman." He smirked at her in the mirror. "A blush."

There was no answer she could make, so she got him a drink instead and combed out his hair. The way he leaned back against her was giving her hope – the wine and the steam were drowsing him up nicely. If she could just keep him down here another half hour, he might decide that a woman wasn't really what he needed tonight after all…

"Come in," he said a bit later.

"I…" She almost refused, but then it occurred to her that perhaps if she humored him in some things she could convince him not to ask for others. "As you wish." She blew out all the candles but one, and turned her back when she finally peeled the robe off. It had begun to stick to her with steam and sweat, and she found herself almost relieved to be rid of it.

She hopped in quickly, and even though she'd been splashing around washing and combing already, it was still a shock to feel how very warm and welcoming the water actually was.

Despite there being a naked pirate lurking nearby in the semi-darkness, after a few moments the tension started to drain out of her and she relaxed against the side of the tub. Once she was submerged to the shoulders she felt a little less exposed, but her hands still gravitated towards her chest protectively. Barbossa didn't disturb her, and as she sat and took stock of herself she was surprised to discover that she felt calm and cozy, and that her nipples were rock-hard.

"Better, is it not?" he asked eventually, jolting her out of her pleasant torpor and sending her pulse through the roof. He moved smoothly through the water to come sit beside her, and she flinched away.

"Captain I-" she gasped, but had nothing to finish the sentence with.

"Captain Swann, ye wouldn't perchance be proposin to deny me what's rightfully mine, now, would ye?" His voice had acquired an edge and he was looming over her in a way that was not exactly friendly.

Elizabeth was near to hyperventilating now, small quick breaths so loud she could hear them, but she still managed to shake her head. She held still while he walked around slowly to sit at her other side. "Good," he purred in her ear, and she couldn't help but resent the way he was so obviously enjoying her terror.

He sat beside her and splashed to indicate his lap. "Cmere."

Elizabeth forced her trembling body to stand up. She faced him and started forward, but the moment her leg brushed his, her nerves failed and she sank down into the water, suddenly in tears. "Please no," she gasped, hugging herself, "Please, I know I can't refuse, I won't, I don't, I but I…" Dry sobs interrupted her babbling, to the point where he could make absolutely no sense of it.

"Elizabeth, belay that," he barked. "You're hysterical." He rose, grabbed her when she tried to scramble away from him, and held her by the arms. She struggled, so he shook her until she was still. "Shush," he said a little more gently, when she'd stopped fighting. "You're losin your head. That be no way for a Pirate Lord to behave."

Elizabeth nodded and let out a long, shuddering breath. "You're right. I apologize. I'll behave now." What on earth had she been thinking, she wondered bitterly, to throw herself on the mercy of the infamous Hector Barbossa? She was lucky he'd been as patient as he had. "What do you want?"

He let go of her, chuckling a little at her defeated tone. "I never said you couldn't show a little spirit. Never mind, I'm sure it'll come back. Now..." He pulled her down into his lap and she sat stiffly, eyes squeezed shut, so tense her neck was starting to hurt.

Eventually she got a little more of a handle on herself. She didn't protest as he pushed her hair off her face, put his arm around her shoulders… she didn't shy away from the lips at her neck, didn't even fight when a proprietary hand cupped her breast and gave it a light squeeze. It occurred to her in a rush of relief: _he's going to be gentle with you._

She shifted on his lap to get a little more comfortable, and forced herself to relax and lean back against him.

"That's it," he purred approvingly. "Nothin to be afraid of." He didn't speak another word for the next ten minutes – he was too busy showering her chest with a series of caresses that were entirely outside the realm of Elizabeth's (nonexistent) experience. Stroking, kneading, licking, drizzling warm water… and then finally, when her nipples were pert and sensitive with all the touching, he flicked one hard and without warning.

Elizabeth surged up with a hiss, and he laughed softly before soothing her back down against him. A sigh of pleasure escaped her as he resumed his more gentle attentions. They had shifted a little so that the surface of the bathwater now licked and splashed against the underside of her breasts. She found it to be a maddeningly ticklish sensation, but fortunately Barbossa soon relieved the itch by rolling her nipples between his fingers.

She hissed again, not with pain this time, and wriggled a little on his lap. Her eyes were open now and she was impatient, although she didn't really know for what.

He dropped a hand into the water lay it on her thigh, which made her gasp. _Oh yes that's it. _She realized that even though she didn't know what she wanted, he seemed to. Her breath caught as the hand slid up, closer and closer to where-

All of a sudden, Barbossa stopped touching her entirely. "But of course, miss," he drawled, "I won't be takin what you're unwillin to give." He stood, pushing her to her feet as well, and climbed out of the tub.

At first she couldn't believe he was serious, and she just stood with her mouth wide open as he dried off and lit the other candles again. When he turned to face her it didn't even occur to her to feel self-conscious about being nude. "So that's it?" She realized she sounded almost accusing.

"Aye." He looked her over and gave a knowing smirk. "Aches a bit, don't it?"

Ache? It did more than ache; Elizabeth felt like a pile of raw nerves and wanted someone – him, anyone, she hardly cared who – to hold her and manhandle her until the itch went away. She wanted someone to grab handfuls of her flesh and squeeze, she wanted someone to take that towel he was holding, thread it between her legs, and saw back and forth until the terrible throbbing was gone. She was a mess of need.

And it didn't help any that the author of it all stood gazing down at her naked body with avid and unabashedly lustful interest...

_And he was just going to walk away_!

Elizabeth finally managed a deep breath. She counted to five. She told herself that if he was actually willing to forego dishonoring her, then she would just have to be grateful for it and somehow ignore this state of painful frustration. "Ache," she repeated as she climbed out of the tub. "I suppose you'd know all about that." She was eyeing the very prominent bulge in his towel, long past the point where such a sight would embarrass her.

"Aye," he agreed easily, "That be the truth. So when you leave here, miss, you'll find a whore outside waitin for me. Tell her I'm ready now and send her in."

"A…" Elizabeth's jaw dropped. "You've had a whore waiting for you the whole time?" He nodded. "You mean you were never going to… to make me…"

Now he was staring into her face so intently it seemed he didn't even notice she had no clothes on. "I'd decided not to force the issue – _if ­_you made an honest effort. But I almost hoped you'd try and renege," he added more softly, "Because then I'd have been perfectly justified."

"Justified in doing what?" she whispered. She couldn't help herself.

He laughed and looked away. "No harm talkin crude to a lady when she's askin for it," he muttered to himself. He met Elizabeth's eyes and said: "I'd have thrown you down, torn yer clothes off and fucked you raw. Now go get me my wench."

Elizabeth left and sent the girl in in her place. Barbossa winked at her as he closed the door, and she no longer even bothered pretending to herself that she didn't feel jealous.

* * *

The End. 

Wow, this is not NEARLY as filthy as what I normally produce; in fact, it's not filthy at all. Probably has typos though, considering I wrote and posted it all in one day. I was afraid that if I let it stew in my filthy brain for any length of time, it would magically morph into a like NC-45 rating or something. If there were such a thing.

Leave me a review! Or I'll shiver your timbers all right...


End file.
